


Why Is A Riddler Like A Broken Mirror?

by Kebuyo



Series: Different works between season 4 and 5 [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: (is that ship name a thing?), Ed Nygma is a mess, Foxma - Freeform, Library, M/M, No Man's Land, Nygmobblepot, Post-Episode: s04e22 No Man's Land, Riddles, Season/Series 05, Tattoos, the Eddler, well not real tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-18 18:29:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16522382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kebuyo/pseuds/Kebuyo
Summary: No Man's Land: Lucius Fox hears rumors about Ed Nygma and decides to go and check up on him.





	Why Is A Riddler Like A Broken Mirror?

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt for this was basically that piece of information we got a while ago about Ed supposedly being "naked with riddle tattoos in a library" in the beginning of season 5.
> 
> EDIT: This will remain a one-shot.

Lucius Fox carefully moved through the shadows of Gotham's now deserted streets. He had chosen a route that would avoid the most dangerous turfs and the villains' and gangs' headquarters. Still, wandering around just by himself was dangerous, but bringing along a troop of police officers wouldn't really have helped and James Gordon needed them elsewhere. Finally he reached his destination: Gotham Central Library. It had only been a 20 minutes walk, but it felt much longer when you kept looking over your shoulder. Before the heavy wooden door, Lucius hesitated. What if there were traps? It would been very much like him. And who knew in what condition his mind was? Maybe this was a bad idea… Then again, nothing he had heard indicated that he was currently much of a threat for others, what could not exactly be said about the rest of Gotham's rogues. He took a deep breath and knocked – slowly and loudly – before carefully pushing the door open.

“Ed?”, he called and entered the huge hall. It was dark except for the distant shine of candle light and the faint daylight coming through the high windows. Lucius passed by the enormous old book shelves, as he approached the lights. He walked slowly, watching out for traps. “Edward? It's me.” He wondered if Ed would even recognize his voice, but even if not, it would indicate that he didn't pose a threat. “Ed? It's me, Lucius Fox. I heard you'd be here, I wondered...” He hesitated. “I wondered how you're doing.” He arrived at some tables that were covered in books, many lying opened, and candles, wax flowing everywhere. There were also ink splatters and papers all over the place. A few steps further and he saw a shattered glass to his feet that had probably been thrown around. Everything here looked like the aftermath of a tantrum – or respectively a mental breakdown. It fitted to the rumors, but was nevertheless worrysome. When he just wanted to call Ed's name again, he heard something. Clattering, shouting. Lucius followed the noise around a few more shelves, through a doorway into another hall. There was a loud groan behind the next shelf, followed by muttering:

“ **No wonder things turned out that way – if you can't even think of anything better then that!** ” Lucius slowly walked around the corner. Finally he saw Ed Nygma. His hair had grown longer and he was wearing a strange... What was it? A skin-tight something with a weird pattern on it. “Oh, really? Wasn't it you who brought us here in the first place? **AS IF YOU'D BEEN DOING ANY BETTER!** OH, YEAH? AT LEAST I DIDN'T GET US KILLED, NOW, DID I?” Ed's voice audibly changed between sentences and Lucius remembered what Ed had once confided to him. _My whole life I felt like there was someone inside of me. Someone stronger. And smarter. Someone that people would fear._ Maybe he had meant it in a more literal way than Lucius had then assumed. “ **NO, YOU WOULD HAVE JUST LET HER USE YOU AS HER DOORMAT! AT LEAST I STRUCK BACK, YOU PATHETIC LOSER!** ”

“Edward?”, Lucius said. The other man wheeled around. His face was distorted, his breathing heavy.

“What's he doing here?”, Ed muttered. Lucius tried to hide his shock when he realized that Ed was actually naked. What he had thought to be a pattern on fabric now turned out to be writing on his bare skin. Lucius could also see that Ed was holding a black sharpie with which he now continued to scribble something on his upper arm as he restlessly murmured: “ **How about you just ask him?** Very funny, he's obviously yours. **You think? Because** _ **I'm**_ **not the one with the hallucinations around here.** Oh, are you not? Don't make me laugh! **Spelling error. And the rhyme,** **seriously** **?** ARGH!”, Ed shouted and threw the sharpie around the room, making Lucius flinch, before he sent a few books flying after the marker. Ed was panting and ruffling his hair. Lucius cleared his throat and came closer, one hand raised reassuringly.

“Ed, I'm really here. I heard you were living in this place now, so I came to see how you're doing.”, he said with a calm voice, while cautiously keeping his gaze fixed above the other man's shoulders. Ed turned to stare at him darkly under his disheveled hair.

“Did you, _Mister Fox_?” He clapped his hands and laughed manically as he stepped closer. **“Foxy, Foxy, Foxy, here's a riddle for you: I am who you are. I can be stolen or faked, but given back with a glance. What am I?”** Lucius frowned and blinked, but Ed's smile didn't cease, not even when he admitted:

“I don't know.” Ed stood directly in front of him now, which at least made it easier to focus on his _face_.

“Of course you don't! And why is that?”, he said, tapping Lucius' lapels.

“I...”

 **“Because it SUCKS!”** , Ed yelled in his face, before turning away with another manic laughter. **“They're terrible! All of them.”** From what Lucius could briefly decipher in the candlelight, the writing that already covered most of Ed's body consisted of riddle fragments and question marks. “Just one good riddle. If I could create at least _one_ good riddle. Then Oswald would see... **Oh, would he? You think one riddle would make a difference? Just look at you!** You're the one to talk! After all, it's _you_ who so desperately needs him! I was doing fine on my own. **Says the guy who tries to create the perfect riddle to win him back!** I create riddles, because I'm _the Riddler_ , that's what I do! **Wrong!** _ **I**_ **am the Riddler.** WELL, WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE? You ARE me!” Ed rummaged through the piles on the table and threw some more books throughout his monologue... or perhaps it could be considered a _dialogue_.

“Ed? Talk to me, what happened with Penguin?”

 **“What happened with Penguin? Nothing happened with Penguin, he's doing fine. Because he's always doing just fine on his own.”** He punched an already broken mirror and sent shards flying everywhere. **“WITHOUT ME!”**

“I heard that Penguin had you brought back to life by Hugo Strange after you and Lee Thompkins stabbed each other.”

 **“That he did.”** , Riddler said, grabbed a miraculously intact ink bottle and pulled a rather battered quill out from under some books. “And what then, I wonder?”, Ed took over as he dipped the quill in the ink and began writing all over the table, books and whatever else was in his way. “Did he tell us how glad he is that we're back? Did he ask us to stay with him? Did you get to be all smug as you wanted to, while he'd pour his heart out to us, tell us he needs us?” Ed stopped writing and clenched his fist as he hissed: **“You're the one who wanted to act smug, I just wanted to get him in bed.”** Lucius felt increasing discomfort at the strange intimacy of the situation. And he wondered when Ed's feelings had gone from _ʻ_ _I can't live without my very best friend whom I killed because he killed the woman I loved_ _ʼ_ to... _this_. Weirdly enough, Lucius wasn't even surprised. “And _that's_ why I'm glad _I'm_ the one in charge. **Are you? Because I would have made him** _ **beg**_ **us to stay with him.** Ugh, now who's being smug? And what do you think Oswald would've said? ʻYou trapped me in a bank vault for a woman who only used you, but hey, water under the bridge, welcome backʼ **Yeah, that's about what he'd say.** Oswald was right, you are not the Riddler, you are a fool. **Ah, yeah? If _I'm_ a fool, then what does that make _you?_** At least I don't want to try to sleep with him. Y **es, you do, you just can't admit it.** How about _you_ admit that you were wrong about pretty much everything and messed up for both of us?” Ed now used the quill to smear a huge question mark over his chest.

“So, what, Penguin threw you out after you woke back up?”, Lucius interjected before they could start another merry-go-round of reproaches.

 **“Quite.”** , Riddler said through his teeth. “Threw us out politely. ʻYou're free to leave, Ed.ʼ Free to leave!” Ed ran his fingers through his hair, leaving dark ink stains on his scalp. “ʻI hold no grudge on you, Edwardʼ... **ʻdon't worry, you're free to leave and go your own wayʼ That mighty Penguin with his damn empire and power and control and his freakin' dog and minions and weapons and choir and fortress and territory and his being in command and doing so well on his own because he only needs himself and nothing else** and what are we?” Ed clenched his teeth as one half provoked the other. “WHAT ARE _WE?_ **A liability. A LIABILITY!”** , he shouted and slammed his fists down on the table.

“Penguin... called you that?”

 **“YES! He did.”** , Edward hissed and started tearing pages out of one of the books. Lucius slowly stepped closer.

“Maybe he just said that because you make him weak.” Ed huffed.

 **“You mean because he thinks** _**I'm** _ **weak.”**

“No. No, I meant... Maybe it's because he thinks his feelings for you are a weakness. That he can't allow himself to keep you around and show his emotions, because it would weaken him and threaten his current position of power.” Ed hesitated.

“Better off unencumbered...”, he murmured.

“So you are a liability to him, because you still mean something to him.”, Lucius continued. Ed slowly turned his head toward him. “Why else would he have brought you back to life, just like that?” Ed frowned. “I can tell you for a fact that he drove a hard bargain with Gordon, using the resurrected Lee Thompkins as leverage to get what he want.” His expression slowly lit up.

 **“That actually makes sense.”** , Ed finally said and came walking toward him. Standing directly before Lucius, he layed his hands on his shoulders. Still keeping his gaze fixed on the other man's face, Lucius just hoped Ed wouldn't hug him now. But Ed just squeezed his shoulders and said beaming: **“Thank you, Foxy”**. Then he turned and headed back to the table, but far less frantically than before, no mumbling to himself and no throwing things around, so Lucius decided it was time to leave.

 

Edward found a purple sharpie and started writing in big letters on the surface in front of him: _Worthless to one, but priceless to two..._

ʻYou love me, Oswald Cobblepot.ʼ, he thought. ʻAnd you need me.ʼ

 


End file.
